The Present Is A Gift
by Dajypop
Summary: Steve can't sleep, living in the past. Tony wants to help them both to take advantage of the present.


**Title: The Present Is A Gift  
Author: Daisy  
Fandom: Avengers  
Setting: After the Avengers (2012) movie  
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark  
Genre: Romance  
Rating: Explicit  
Chapters: 1/2  
Word Count: 780  
Type of Work: Two-shot  
Status: Unfinished  
Warnings: Snark, Explicit M/M, Anal, Blowjobs, Sweetness, Possible OOC, Romance, Scheming JARVIS, Mentions of PTSD  
Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers, or Marvel anything, except for comic books, movies, a bank, posters, video games... Things the fans own. Sadly, if I owned Marvel it would be much more about superheroes rutting than anything. o.o  
Summary: Steve can't sleep, living in the past. Tony wants to help them both to take advantage of the present.**

AN: A work for my loveydumpling, something that I hope he'll like. He's been having some issues lately, and I'm hoping that this will make him at least a tad calmer. I love you so much, babyshakes.

**Chapter One: Workout******

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Steve had more punching bags than any one man should have been allowed, Tony came to realize one day. Walking in on the man in the gym he'd had added to Stark Tower (for the sake of the other staying and not running off when he couldn't sleep) had given him a fairly good insight into that. According to JARVIS, however, there were even _more_ that were broken beyond repair, leaking sand or whatever and dragged to the pile of bones of the rest, shoved into one corner. The billionaire rose a brow as he watched fists fly, the steady _thump, thump, thump, crack_ making him nearly waltz over to the other before clasping his hands over the taller man's eyes.

"Guess who?"

"Tony! You don't sneak up on a soldier in training, that's a good way to wind up accidentally—"

"Accidentally _what_? Dead? You couldn't kill me if you wanted to, because I know you've wanted to, and here I am."

Always with the snark, but for some reason, it seemed to settle Steve into the eye of the storm that had his fists flying like that. It was like a somewhat grounding thing, something that told him he was still here, he was still safe, he was _alright_, and the war was over; for now. Even still, the war never seemed to quit inside his own head, inside his heart. When he slept, it was restless, when he ate, everything turned to ash in his mouth. The only constant was the pain that coursed through his knuckles with each powerful pound into the sandbag before him, and eventually even _that_ faded to an incontinent numbness that seeped into almost every corner of his being.

And, then a brief flash of the tesserect would have him up in arms, guarding from imaginary enemies and throwing punches and kicks like he was being mauled by a riotous mob, when he was simply left alone to his own thoughts. Guilts, things that drove him insane when he had a second alone... Perhaps _that_ was his reason for vising Tony; for staying with a man that he used to think was little more than a selfish brat of a child who cried because his daddy never spent time with him. Then again, that was probably cruel to think, now.

"Hey, Stars and Stripes," Tony waved a hand in front of Steve's eyes, and those blue eyes blinked and he tilted his head a bit to look at the other, seeming to come out of it for a moment.

"Ah, uh... Right, Mr. Sta- Er... Tony, what do you need?"

"I _need_ a burger, a milkshake, and a bottle of Scotch. But... For once, that isn't important. What is it _you_ need, huh? You've been down here for an hour, and there's more bodies of dead punching bags in that corner than I think exist in any normal gym, period. If you ask me, you need a night to relax and really have a good time."

There was something in the way that that tender expression crossed over Tony's face, making him look almost uncharacteristically goopy, that unsettled something in the soldier's stomach. But... At the same part, he wondered vaguely if it was like the pain that came from cracking bones that needed it. Maybe he really _did_ need something to calm himself.

"Alright, Stark, you're on. What exactly do you have planned...?" A raise of a golden eyebrow let the genius know he likely had his work cut out for him. It was good he was in a rare giving mood, or he'd already have left for that burger and shake.

Then again, around this damn 'All American Boy', Tony had started to have more moments where he felt like giving. While he played that it made him feel queasy and he thought he was having an allergic reaction... He knew it had something to do with the tugging feeling in what he had left of a heart whenever Steve left his sight. Stupid feelings...

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise. I'll meet you on the top floor of the tower at six tonight, expect to have the best night of your life." Leaning in with what Steve could _only_ call a purr, the scruffier man gently kissed his cheek before disappearing back into the elevator. Already, he had JARVIS working on running preliminary scans and making lists for him, because regardless of it being so early, he knew he had to start soon. He also turned off access to the top floor while he worked, unless it was just him by himself. This would work out _perfectly._

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End file.
